“I guess we’re finished,” he sighed.“No we’re not,” she said, her eyes still closed.“What’s still sore?” he asked.“Nothing. I feel...wonderful. You’re a good masseuse.”“Masseur,” Bob corrected her. “But thank you.”“Touch my breasts again,” she said.He didn’t question her. He was also sure this was no longer a massage. His cock clenched in his shorts.This time he gave in to playing with her nipples, squeezing them gently, pulling them this way and that, and rubbing his fingertips across them. They. He had set up his massage table between the desk and bed. The lights were turned low and he had several scented candles burning around the room. A pile of towels on the bed and an assortment of jars and tubes of oils were on the desk. Soft relaxing music played from a cd player. I walked over to the massage table. Todd was standing by the desk, arranging his oils with his back to me. As I bent over the massage table, my robed opened, exposing more of my breasts. ‘Todd, I’m ready… for you,’ I. More

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